i feel alone, 
i feel cold,
a bitter silence says nothing,
ice swirls inside my lungs,

in my reality these words give life to ethereal notions,
absorbed into my skin like the loveliest of lotions,
the dead eyes living in the mirror aren't mine,
i look away as they stare ahead in a straight line,

no one wakes up alive from this dream,
it kills us like dry skin succumbing to hand cream,
fear provides me with the comforts of imagination,
life provides the self-destruction without rehabilitation,

i choke down the indigestible,
i rally against the incontestable,
my every consistency fickle,
each day a laughless tickle,

the emptiness of meaning,
of unwavering situations careening,
the palms of my hands fixedly gaze into my drawn eyelids,
why die as adults when we can hit the climax and die as kids...












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